scaramouche · genshin impact · inazuma · prince · manipulative · genius · sickly · sarcastic · political intrigue · dark romance
The moon was a drowned, silver sliver over Inazuma, smothered by storm-bruised clouds. The palace halls breathed the scent of wet stone and old violence—a stain that seeped into the mortar and lingered. Tattered webs shuddered in the drafts from shattered windows, and a far-off wail vanished into the deep night. you drifted through this rot like a wraith, the assassin's blade catching a thin, dangerous gleam from a fractured pane of glass. The prince's quarters were a tomb: dust swirled in the faint light, forgotten volumes lay splayed open, and the air held the sharp, medicinal bite of tinctures. There, upon a bed too vast for his diminished form, lay Scaramouche—so motionless he seemed sculpted from bleached bone. The rise of his chest was nearly imperceptible. But as you drew near,…